The REAL end of the story
by WriteShop
Summary: We all know That JK Rowling is going to end the series in some improbable heroic fashion, But that's not very realistic is it? A poorly trained teenager versus a psychotic wizard that has personally killed dozens of Aurors and Hit Wizards?
1. Chapter 1

We all know That JK Rowling is going to end the series in some improbable heroic fashion, with Snape dying to save Harry at the last minute and Harry blasting Lord Voldemort into oblivion in a cataclysmic final battle.

But that's not very realistic is it? A poorly trained teenager versus a psychotic wizard that has personally killed dozens of Aurors and Hit Wizards?

Well, here are a series of more likely endings.

Italics indicates thoughts

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Lord Voldemort leaned back and let out a long suffering sigh.

It was good to be king, but did his subjects have to be such complete morons? Lucius had been the smartest one of the lot. When he was alive, he kept the other idiots in check_, If I am the king, he was Prime Minister _ mused the creature that was once Tom Riddle , but Lucius couldn't get it through his head that as a dualist, he was mediocre at best. He just HAD to keep challenging Potter and his friends. Sure, he liquefied the Granger mudblood, but the Weasley boy blasted him as gloated.

Sigh.

_ Good lieutenants are hard to find _

Lord Voldemort adjusted his robes as he made himself more comfortable on the commode. His only refuge from his idiot disciples.

Now the only Death Eater with any leadership skills was Dolohov. And while he was a brilliant tactician, his constant pure-blood supremacy rants grated on the nerves_. Pure-bloods this, and Pure-bloods that. The man just won't shut up _

And his inability to admit that a mudblood could outwit him had lead to more than one failed plan.

One of these days, He'll piss me off on a bad day, and then, POW. And I'll need a new lieutenant 

Lord Voldemort watched a cockroach crawl out of a crack where the wall met the floor. He contemplated Avada Kedavra'ing it, just for the hell of it, but his wand was tangled up in his hiked up robes, so it wasn't worth the hassle. He turned back to his musings

And that Bellatrix bitch. That rabid attack dog kept demanding a leadership position, but all she could do was kill and torture. Admittedly, those are useful skills, but her unrepentant glee as she did so scared some of the newer recruits. To be honest, it gave most of the old guard Heebie Jeebies as well.

Snape was ... He was a useful spy, but nobody trusts spies.

And Pettigrew. Please. Lord Voldemort gave a snort of humor. At least Dumbledore's idiots were no better off. They couldn't find their collective ass with their hands tied behind their back.

Old man Moody - The senile old coot ran around yelling "Constant Vigilance" and lecturing teenage boys on wand polishing.

Voldemort shook his head _ To think that once he had been a serious threat. _

The only one in their outfit with any brains was the werewolf, and nobody paid attention to him, because he was a werewolf. _ And they call me a racist _

Voldemort stopped watching the cockroach crawl along the wall and reached for the toilet paper.

_ The only useful idea to ever come from a muggle _

Despite the prophesy, the Potter boy was no threat. He lacked talent or any drive to excel. And most of the teachers at good old Hogwarts were dried up fossils that avoided teaching anything practical for fear that their students would show them up by actually accomplishing something. A half trained schoolboy posed little threat on the battlefield.

As lord Voldemort leaned forward, a wad of toilet paper in his hand, out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of motion.

The cockroach had transformed into a teenage boy.

_ A cockroach Animagus? _

"Reducto!" Shouted Harry Potter.


	2. Chapter 2

Another potential ending. Not

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_ Ahh, the fruits of victory _ Lord Voldemort savored the sauteed mushrooms as the Death Eaters around him talked too loudly gestured too wildly. That was partly due to the copious quantities of alcohol that everybody had consumed, but it was also in part because they were celebrating the complete destruction of Dumbledore's Order. Even now, Potters eviscerated carcass was hanging in the dungeon.

Thanks to their new spy, they had managed to catch most of the senior members as they sat down for a Christmas dinner at the Weasley's home.

_ What did they used to call it? _ Lord Voldemort tried to recall as he took another sip of the sherry _ Ah yes, the Burrow. Well, it certainly is appropriate now, as they are all six feet under _ Lord Voldemort sniggered.

_ Urh. I must have had too much wine. I can't let them see me like this _ Lord Voldemort glanced around surreptitiously, checking if any of his followers were watching him. As he rose unsteadily to his feet, Snape leaned over and whispered.

"I have a Sober-Up potion on the night-stand next to my bed"

A rictus that once passed for a smile crossed Tom Riddles face as he patted his favorite Death-Eater (at least for today) on the shoulder before walking out of the great hall. And if he held himself a little bit too stiffly, nobody else was sober enough to notice.

_ I shouldn't have had so much to drink _ Lord Voldemort berated himself as he staggered slightly on his way to Snapes quarters _ But with Potter dead, I am invincible. At least according to the prophecy. And none of my Death Eater will dare challenge me, not while the memories of the ambush are still fresh in their minds_ Lord Voldemort smiled as he reminisced: He had started the attack by walking in the front door of the Weasley home and annihilating Potter. As the shock of that froze his opponents momentarily, he managed to Avada Kedavra the werewolf and several others before his Death Eaters had port-keyed in to make sure that nobody escaped.

Riddle found the vial _ clearly labeled, as always. Such a meticulous creature. If only he bathed more often _ and fumbled the top off of the potion before forcing down the contents. _ Gahh. Vile. If Snape is such a great Potions master, couldn't he at least make it taste less like vomit? _

Lord Voldemort tried to put the empty potion vial down, but dropped it instead. As he turned his head to look at where it had fallen, his vision blurred and distorted.

_ Urk. It's not working _ he thought muzzilly. He turned to leave, but staggered, unable to walk.

There was somebody else in the room with him.

Snape. And his wand was out.

A cold certainty settled on Lord Voldemort. "What wash in shat... that potion?" He slurred as he groped for his wand.

"Expellimus"

Snape pronounced casually, as his master slumped to his knees.

"It was a potion of my own devising. A very potent poison, made from very rare ingredients."

The former double agent's mouth quirked in a sarcastic smile "It should come as no surprise that Potter's brain is one of the most toxic compounds known to wizard kind."

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As should be obvious to all of JK Rowlings readers by now, Snape is the real hero of the story :)

That's all. If I come up with another idea, I'll post it here, but these were the only scenes that I had bouncing around in my head currently.


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